Ice
by like a heart breaker
Summary: Tony Thompson didn't like change. Cassie Thompson didn't either. Scotland was a massive change for the pair of them: they can get through it together, right? But when you add vampires into the mix, family bonds will be pushed to the limits. Add some magical powers and a vampire hunter, and it'll seem like your family is the last thing on your mind.
1. Chapter 1

"I still don't see why we had to leave," the small blond boy muttered to a tall, ice-blonde haired girl. "Why _Scotland?_"

"You're telling me," the girl said drily. "I haven't even experienced the horrors of being a Freshman... Not anymore." She rolled icy blue eyes, her expression becoming blank when a man and a woman strode over to them, pushing along several cases. "Mother, father."

"Cassie," her mother began, exasperated. "Come _on_. It has been over a week now."

"No, mom!" Cassie growled, taking Tony's hand in her own and stomping her foot. "You have just uprooted us from everything we knew! I was born in that house, damn it!"

Dottie Thompson eyed her daughter in weary acceptance, taking in her angry but tall stance and the cocking of her head that portrayed her confidence. "Cassie. It is no longer up for debate—we're here. Accept it and move on; what are you going to do? Hop on another plane and jet off back to San Diego?" Cassie stiffened at the mention of her old home. "You can't. The taxi is waiting."

Bob smiled weakly at Cassie and Tony, turning on his heel and pushing their luggage towards the mouth of the airport. Tony tugged on her hand gently, smiling shyly, and the pair began to walk. "I tried," Cassie sniffed, her shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry, Tony."

"Don't worry," Tony smiled again, wider, and swung their interlinked hands together. "How bad can it be?"

_Very bad_, Cassie groaned inwardly. The weather was cold, bitterly so, and the wind nipped at her leggings and baggy shirt, snow fluttering around them. It was only August, so why was it snowing? _Surely this isn't normal?_ She gazed around, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Many men and women were bustling around in thick jackets, scarves wrapped firmly around their necks. _It's __**August**__!_

They found their parents and the taxi easily enough—Bob was trying to tell the Scottish taxi driver to help them, but the driver was having none of it; the man lit up a cigarette and puffed away. Cassie rolled her eyes _(was this going to be a permanent thing?)_ and helped pack their luggage in the car, throwing her mom's case in and taking extra care with her own. At fourteen years of age, she was allowed to be stroppy about moving thousands of miles away from her own home, right? It was practically a given!

She shimmied into the car, ignoring her mother and clambering next to Tony. Her dad got in next to the driver and they were off, nerves welling in her stomach with every town they passed. Where was their new house?

She blanched when they reached gnarled, wrought iron gates that blocked their entrance to a small castle. A castle. She tried to hide the smile that bloomed on her lips, but it soon became a wide grin when her father jumped out of the car to push them open. The taxi driver began to grumble about people with too much money and not enough sense, parking and helping them remove their luggage from the boot.

Her dad handed him money and the man drove away, papping his horn as a farewell. Cassie and Tony shared a challenging look and the pair bolted up to the doors, Cassie opening the doors and whistling appreciatively. Tony bounded up behind her and shot up the visible stairs; Cassie let out a loud war cry and followed, taking the stairs two at a time and trying to find the perfect bedroom. There was a room at the end of the hall, a large open space, and she sprinted over to it. "Mine!"

Tony frowned and chose a room on the right side of the long corridor.

"Kids!" Bob called, his voice painfully amused. "The mover van is here!"

Cassie kicked off her shoes and placed them at her door as a claim and bolted down the stairs, greeting the men with a wide, beaming smile. "My room is the one at the end of the corridor. Is there anything I can help you with?"

**oOo**

Cassie Thompson gazed around her room in pride, accepting defeat... and accepting the move. Their new home—because every house is a home if she had her parents and brother there—was large, spacey and, while the schooling and friend situation sucked ass, her dad's job was paying more than it ever had and everyone was kind of happy. There was no stigma following them, aside from them being American. It was a fresh start.

Her new bedroom was painted an off-white, something she didn't mind. It was a little dirty, and there were still leaves all over the floor, but the floor was a stark white hardwood. Her bed was directly in the middle of the room, covered in her colourful, pastel pillows and her duvet lay folded up at the foot of it. She had managed to convince the mover men to set up her wardrobe - some horrendous flat pack thing she didn't want to attempt - and she had just finished unpacking the very last of her clothing into it. The rest of her room was made up of a large, plush sofa covered in mismatched pillows, sat opposite a white coffee table and on top of a plush white rug. It smelt like paint and dust, but it looked like home.

"Cassie?" The girl turned, staring at her mom in silence. Dottie sighed. "Look, Cassie, there was nothing we could do. Bob either took the job or lost his normal one. We fought hard, saying that it wasn't fair and you and Tony would suffer, but it was out of our hands."

"It's fine," Cassie smirked, opening her arms and gesturing to her new bedroom. "When the dresser arrives, this room will be lovely and have nothing on my old one. It just sucks that we had to go thousands of miles away from home... To here. What about birthdays and Christmas? Thanksgiving? What about grand dad and grandma?"

"I know it sucks," Dottie said glumly, embracing Cassie. "We didn't want to go either, babe. Now, off to bed. I'll draw your curtains for you."

Cassie smiled warmly and changed from her plane clothing to warm, fleecy pyjamas. She took a running leap at the bed and burst into loud giggles, wiggling under her duvet and falling asleep to a kiss pressed to her forehead.

**oOo**

"Cassie," Tony shook his sister gently, blinking away tears. "Cassie, please, wake up; I had a bad dream." One tired, glazed eye peeked out and the girl groaned, lifting her bedding and letting the small boy in.

"Wah'wa'sit?" she asked, dropping the duvet and throwing her leg over Tony's own.

"Vampires!" Tony whispered, rubbing at his eyes. "I was on my bed and somebody jumped from a cliff and they were heading right for me and they were going to eat me! Then I woke up, but something chirped outside and mom and dad are super tired so I came to you. You'll protect me, right?"

"With my life," Cassie agreed, yawning and her eye dropping. "Sleep." Tony smiled brightly, his dream forgotten, snuggling to her warmth.

**oOo**

The sun dawned bright and early; the two children let out identical groans and burrowed further in their cocoon, aiming to sleep for another few hours yet. Unfortunately, Dottie had other plans.

"Up! Come on! You're both going to school, and I'm going to check out the town square." The woman beamed, spreading her arms wide and spinning on her heel. "How do I look?"

"How you normally do," Tony grumbled, sliding out of the warm bed and leaving the room. "I'm going to make some breakfast!" he shouted, his little footsteps pounding on the stairs.

"Come on, Cassie. Up you get." Dottie continued to smile, tugging on the duvet and trying to dislodge Cassie's tight grip. With one harsh tug, the girl shifted with the duvet and fell to the floor.

"Not cool, mom," Cassie groaned, sitting up and scowling. "Tony had a nightmare and woke me up."

Dottie immediately frowned. "Next time, tell him to come to us, alright? He can't always rely on you."

"He's eight, mom."

**oOo**

The school looked like something from an archaic city; it was red-washed, with white trims and high beams. Students stared as Dottie marched Cassie across the school yard, and she could hear whispers such as, "_Are they the Americans?_" and "_She looks so scary..._" Cassie remained stony faced until they reached the reception, where her face spilt into a wide grin. Her mother frowned and shook her head. "Gossips."

"Hello?" she inquired, peering around the reception. The interior was vastly different to the exterior, with the cloying scent of old permeating the air. Mahogany shelves lined the walls, brimming with books of various age, with warm, plush chairs nestled around short tables. The desk where, presumably, the receptionist worked, was devoid of life. "Erm... What do I do?" Dottie turned to her daughter. Cassie shrugged, itching to investigate the books.

"Just turn up," someone else replied. Cassie peered around her mother to find the culprit.

_He_ was dressed in a messy uniform, his tie hanging loose around his neck and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Ashy blond hair fell over his face, but not enough to obscure bright blue eyes and sunkissed skin. There was a boy to his left, a gangly thing with pale grey eyes and thin blond hair, who smiled shyly and waved with two curled fingers. There was another boy to his right, who smirked condescendingly and stuffed his hands into his blazer pockets. He was painfully attractive, with dark eyes and dark hair. "Hi. My name's Don."

"Hi, Don." Cassie replied in a similar manner. "My name's Cassie."

The boy cracked a grin. "I know. You've been the talk of the school."

Dottie pushed her daughter forward, smiling sweetly. "Well, Cassie, I'll pick you up later, okay? I'm sure... _Don_ will take care of you. Bye!"

Cassie stood on her tip-toes and puckered her lips, Dottie dropping a kiss on her nose. "Have a good day, mom."

**oOo**

Donald closed his book and stood, his two friends following behind. "We going to help out the new kid?"

"Of course," his friend, James, sniffed delicately. "The heathens at this school will eat her alive. Imagine, being _American_ surrounded by _Scottish_ accents. Just terrible!"

"Spoken like a true Englishman," Tom, Donald's other friend, slammed his palm onto James' back. "She's only a kid, though, ain't she?"

"Thirteen, I think." Donald replied, peering around a wall to view the reception. He saw a woman stride in, a young girl trailing behind her, gazing at the reception, and counted to ten in his head.

He felt like a knight in shining armour when those ice-like eyes fell on him. The girl, Cassie, strode over after her mum left, and stuck her hand out. He grinned impishly and kissed the back of her hand. "This is James."

She was all sharp-features and pale, looking awkward in the female uniform. Her blazer wasn't buttoned together and her tie hung low, the first button of her blouse undone. Coupled with clunky Mary Janes and an unflattering plaid skirt, she looked the very picture of uncomfortable. Her body spoke of curves she was going to grow into very soon, and her hair was long and gleaming in the low light. From Tom's amused grin, his examination hadn't been missed.

"Hello, Cassie. It's nice to meet you." James said kindly, his bony arm digging into Don's diaphragm. Don dropped her hand with a blush. "We've taken it on ourselves to be your guide. There's been a bit of speculation in regards to yourself and not all of it has been pretty."

"I can definitely see why, though," Tom joined in. "You're very pretty. I'm Thomas, by the way."

"And underaged, so no funny business, pretty boy." Cassie eye-smiled. "Nice to meet you, James, Thomas-by-the-way."

Don laughed loudly. "Feisty, too! I like you already. We're in the Upper Sixth, so we can't really help you _much_... But you're sitting with us at lunch if you don't make friends. Do you have your timetable?"

**oOo**

Cassie tried not to scowl. She was happy that people were being nice to her, yes, but James, Donald and Tom were so _pushy_. They quoted long-dead poets and then _stared_, like she was expected to join in. They even played games. "I don't know! Larkin? Plath?"

James rubbed the bridge of his nose. "_Auden_, little miss. Auden."_  
_

"Okay... My turn." Cassie pursed her lips and tried to think. "Who said... _Dulce et decorum est-_"

"Pro partia mori," Tom rolled his eyes. "Wilfred Owen. You are so uncultured."

"I was going for Horace, actually." Cassie snarled. "You are so frustrating!"

"Well, well, well," Tom scowled at her. "Kitty's got claws. I don't like you any more."

"Why, because I reply to your taunts or because you're an asshole?" Cassie scowled back, balling her hands into fists.

"Because he's an arsehole," Donald interrupted, throwing an arm over her shoulders. She stiffened immediately. "How were your first lessons?" He continued, completely at ease with his arm over her shoulder.

_This is too intimate_, she said mentally. "Terrible. There's a boy named Stuart Rookery who won't leave me alone."

"That explains why he keeps staring at you," Don said quietly, tightening his grip. "Stay clear of him, you here?"

A pang went through her body: she felt like her core had frozen. Stuart Rookery was staring at her?

"He's been doing it for a while now," Tom added, sounding concerned. "He made a kid drop out of school once. Keep out of his way. His dad's an absolute psycho."

The day carried on in the same vein: however, she became hyper-aware of dark eyes trained on her every time she moved.

**oOo**

"So, Cassie... How's Don?" Dottie's voice was teasing but kind. "He's very cute. They all were, actually, especially the dark haired one..."

"They're all fine, mom." Cassie rolled her eyes. "Tom's an ass. He's the dark haired one, wearing the blazer, yeah?" Dottie nodded. "James is very sweet. He was the one that wasn't Donald. They're all very lovely. Tom and Don are seventeen and James is sixteen but in the same year as them. Kind of odd how they want to befriend a fourteen year old girl, but they've only been kind to me."

Dottie frowned at how old they were. "They looked young for their age! Do any of them drive?"

Cassie nodded, leaning back in the car. "Yeah. Tom and Don both do, but Don has to use his dad's car and Tom is a spoilt rich kid with a class A attitude problem, so don't expect any carpooling."

Dottie smiled. "Any other friends?"

Cassie shrugged. "Not really. There's a strange boy who keeps looking at me, but maybe he's just shy and won't say hello. How's Tony's day been?"

Dottie's expression became pinched, lips tightly drawn. "Awfully. The teacher took me aside and it's only been his first day! You're going to have to talk to him about his dreams."

Cassie nodded, frowning and leaping out of the car when they pulled up to the house. The sun as beginning to set and the house was gleaming. She grabbed her bag and shot inside, running up the stairs and pausing outside of Tony's door.

It was shut, and there was muffled sobbing from within.

She knocked and said gently, "Tony? Can I come in?"

She heard him shuffle and the door clicked open, his miserable face peeking out from behind the white washed wood. "Everyone talks funny here."

She knelt down and gave him a hug. "I know, precious. There's nothing we can do, I'm afraid."

"It sucks," he sniffled, agreeing. "Nobody wants to be my friend. I asked but they said there was no room for freaks on their table."

"You're not a freak, doll. You hush up about the vampires, okay? Save it for when they're more open for change. Being the new kid is never easy." He stiffened in her grip, and she knew she'd said the wrong thing.

"_You've_ made friends, so I don't understand how you can say that!" he cried, pulling back. "Mom told me! You just walked in and three boys came up to you! Well, guess what? They probably just - just, want you to be their girlfriend, or something!"

"Tony!" she gasped, feeling hurt. She knew he was upset, but his words bothered her. It certainly wasn't her charming personality that made the three boys hang around her, but...

"No! Go away! Go away, go away, go away!"

She got up and left, trying not to cry. She knew Tony didn't like change**—**neither did she. But there was always one constant, whenever mom and dad did something that they both didn't like: they stayed together.

The condensation on her window froze.


	2. Chapter 2

The days passed slowly. Tony didn't apologise for his cruel words, but she didn't expect him to.

Soon enough, she had finished—and survived!—her first week of school. Don, Tom and James had gone from "clingy acquaintances" to inviting her out at the weekend. She, obviously, declined, but gave them her home phone number. Stuart Rookery still hadn't said hello, and he seemed to avoid her. Whenever she passed him in the hallway, he flinched away like she was a virus. She wasn't sure if she should feel hurt by that, or relieved.

* * *

"It's because you're cold," Tom had told her with glee visible in his expression. "James says you're freezing cold to him. Literally make his fingers numb!"

Donald had scoffed and thrown his arms around her as a point. "She's not. James just needs to wear more clothing." Tom embraced her too, and she absently remarked,

"You're both incredibly hot."

James had burst into giggles. "You cradle snatchers! She's only thirteen!"

"_Fourteen_, actually." She had scowled, feeling her face heat up. "Could you get off me? You're making me warm."

"Fourteen?" Tom had grinned at that. "When's your birthday? Two years until you're legal, honey."

"You lecher!" She had exclaimed, wiggling out of their joint grip.

"Lecher though one is, or aspires to be—" Don and Tom began, but she interrupted with a gleeful grin.

"Alan Bennett!" she had shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You can't tell me that's not Alan Bennett!"

The three boys had clapped and cheered at her accusation. "She's getting there!" James exclaimed. "Alright, alright... Next one. Uncoffined, just as found—his landmark is a kopje crest,"

"_Drummer Hodge! _Thomas Hardy!" she cried victoriously.

* * *

"Hon?" Dottie knocked on her door, breaking her out of her musings. She wiped away the smile on her lips and waved at her mother. "We've got a party tonight, so we're getting a babysitter. Look out for Tony, will you? He's getting a little smarmy with me. I don't think he's happy but doesn't want to say."

"On it, mom." She frowned down at her homework and pushed it away. "Mom... He said something awful to me the other day."

Her door closed with a click, and she swallowed tightly. Her mom didn't care? She clenched her fists and wiped her right eye, curious by the sudden cold that enveloped the lid. A frozen droplet came away with her hand. She frowned again. "How odd..." she muttered but shrugged, standing up and changing into her pyjamas.

An hour later, she heard her parents welcoming the babysitter and fifteen minutes after that, the loud click of the front door as they left. Tony hadn't left his bedroom, so in her quest for food she checked on him. He was sat at his desk and turned to smile as she walked in. "Hey, Cassie. Could you get me some ketchup?"

She smiled and nodded, continuing on down the stairs.

"Hello!" the babysitter beamed, wringing a cloth between her hands. "Now, don't yu' worry abou' a thing, y'hear?"

"I wasn't, but thanks." she said drily, taking a piece of bread and a bag of crisps from a cupboard. She had to hunt for the ketchup, but found it in the cupboard adjacent to the alcoholic beverages.

"How're yu' finding Scotland, then, luv'?" the babysitter asked, desperate for conversation.

"Fine. A little daunting at times, but I've made three friends already." She smiled politely, taking a large, pointed bite of the bread.

"Oh? What's their names?" The babysitter leaned forward. Cassie's nose curled in disgust at the blatant beg for gossip.

"Donald Cooper, James Parker and Thomas Barnett."

"Oh!" The woman frowned. "_Oh._ I can't say av' 'eard good things about them lads, dear. Only one is good - that Thomas."

**oOo**

Cassie heard a loud yell from her brother's room and shot out, baseball bat in hand. Her dad called her "Slugger" for a reason. "You alright, Tony?"

"No!" he shrieked, and she heard something slam against his door - was it a murderer, stopping her from coming in? Or was it his way of saying that there was someone in the room with him? Was he being kidnapped?

She tried the doorknob and the door swung open, a body hitting the floor on the other side. She held the bat over her head and prepared herself to fight, storming in.

The sight made her pause.

There was a boy—or a man?—on the floor, swathed in dark clothing, with sickly grey skin and dark tousled hair. His lips were moving, but there was no sound escaping his lips. Tony was huddled behind his race car bed, his terrified blue eyes peaking over the duvet.

"Who are you?" she demanded, kicking him gently with her foot.

"I'm too weak..." he groaned, rolling on to his back.

"He's a vampire!" Tony declared, standing up and wobbling towards them. Cassie's hands faltered on the bat as she began to smile, but the Stranger's cough made her tighten her grip again. "I know him. I've seen him in my dreams. Are you called Gregory?"

The Stranger stiffened and snarled, leaping up. Cassie swung the bat round and hit him in the stomach, but the bat _shattered_ from the hit. She blinked and stared down at the shattered pieces: what the _Hell?_ "How do you know that name?" he roared, grabbing Cassie by the hair and yanking her up; one grip was tight against her scalp, the other wrapped around her arm. "I will kill her, boy!"

She wondered how the babysitter couldn't hear, but that didn't matter when Tony let out a small whimper. "My - my dreams," he begged, "Only my dreams. Don't hurt my sister, please, _please_..."

The Stranger slowly relaxed his grip, dropping her so that her feet were on the floor again. "I need a cow. Take me to a cow. I won't let her go until you do."

Tony nodded frantically.

**oOo**

The Stranger's name was Rudolph Sackville-Bagg, and he was a real life, three-hundred and something vampire. He had the physical appearance of a sixteen year old boy, simply because he was sixteen when he was turned. "I'm dreadfully sorry for the bruising," he said softly. Tony was hobbling in front, turning around every minute to make sure his sister was still alive. "Gregory is my brother. Little brother, but you don't need to know that." He winked like he'd made a joke and she smiled appeasingly.

"It's okay. Your hands are lovely and cold, so please could you rub the bruises for me?" she asked nicely, desperate to escape his grip. It was nothing like Donald's warm arm on her shoulder, or Tom's burning hand on her forearm. Heck, even James' cold hands on her didn't make her as uncomfortable as this.

It wasn't like she hated being touched - she loved it. She loved cuddling her mother and receiving kisses from her dad. But physical affection that _she _hadn't initiated made her feel queasy. It was _wrong_.

The vampire—was he really a vampire? How peculiar!—rubbed her arms softly, before focussing on one arm and one hand moved to rub her scalp. "I really am sorry, you know."

"Don't worry about it." She sighed, relaxing under his careful rubbing. His hands were rock hard and ice cold. "Do you have more family?"

"I'm afraid I won't tell you just yet," His voice was lilting and soft, like a proper English gentleman. She realised that her new friends' accents, not Scottish but English, were harsh and drawled: she guessed they were from more up North than Rudolph Sackville-Bagg. Maybe Lancashire? "How old are you and your brother?"

She nodded and sighed again, her eyes sliding shut as he led her along. "I'm fourteen and Tony is eight. My mom is called Dottie and my dad's called Robert, but only his boss is allowed to call him that. Mom calls him Bob."

There was a smile in his voice when he replied, "You're very young. Very innocent, in fact."

She twitched, opening her eyes and scowling up at him. He laughed, his lips forming a lobsided smile and those crimson eyes curving. "Never such innocence again," she quoted, testing him. From his sudden stiffening, she'd done something right.

His eyes lit up, and he managed to breathe out "Larkin," before Tony interrupted them.

"We're here!" Tony cried, his cape fluttering in the wind. She knew the weather was cold, biting even, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't explain why, but her friends certainly picked up on it.

Rudolph sighed like a stroppy teenager and released his grip on her, leaping ahead and entering the barn. "Are you okay, Cassie?" Tony hissed when the dark haired boy was no longer in sight. "You're all bruised..."

She held up her arm and investigated the bruising. It was very, very bad; they were clear finger marks, a mottled black and purple on the pale skin of her arm. Her scalp twinged in agony and she grimaced. "I'll be fine, Tony. I'll keep my eye on Rudolph, okay? You stay out here and sit in the hay. It should keep you warm."

She helped him on a bale and entered the barn, the smell of cow and faeces making her face curl in disgust. "Rudolph?" she asked, peering around. She couldn't see very well in the dark. There was a loud squelching sound and one of the cows mooed in pain. "Right, vampire, sorry."

There was a muffled laugh before a dark head poked up from a cow. "Just give me a minute."

She waited a full minute, rocking on the balls of her feet, when she heard it.

Tony's cry.

"Rudolph!" Her head shot to towards him. "Tony's in trouble!"

There was an icy clamp around her wrist and suddenly she was no longer affected by gravity, gliding through the air at neck-breaking speeds. "I'll get you!" she heard someone cry.

"Tony?" she shouted over the roar of the wind. "Rudolph, did you get Tony?!"

"Don't worry," She shivered at the dark tone. "I got him."

"Thank you so much," she whispered, her body feeling like lead.

When they settled, they were on a blimp. Not just any blimp - her dad's blimp. The party was in full swing, the mansion shining like a beacon in the night.

**oOo**

When Cassie woke up in the morning, it was to the scent of flowers. She opened her eyes and shot out of bed, displacing flowers that had been piled on her bed. She blinked.

There were hundreds of flowers on her bed. There was only one she recognised: lilies. White lilies. They either meant innocence or bereavement. Neither of which she cared much for.

She slid carefully out, flicking her duvet away and standing on a small empty spot on the floor. She pulled back her duvet and spread out the flowers again. "What do I do?" she muttered.

"I'd recommend a vase." Rudolph piped up; she jumped. "Terribly sorry. I'm underneath your bed. Tony's box got incredibly uncomfortable. Do you like the flowers? I spent all night trying to find them. Not many florists open at night..." She took that to mean he'd robbed someone's greenhouse or spent the rest of the night flying all over the world: the plausible one was robbing someone's greenhouse, because surely even vampires had limits?

"They're lovely," She smiled shyly, feeling her face heat up. "But why have the buried me in flowers?"

"To apologise, of course!" She knelt down and lifted a drape, revealing the underneath of her bed. Rudolph was pressed against the underneath of it, his body weight being held by one lazy hand and what she assumed to be his flying ability. His head turned and she smiled again, wider. "Oh. Good morning!"

"What flowers have you give me, Rudolph?" Cassie asked.

"Well, there's lilies, chrysanthemums, orchids—they were _incredibly_ hard to find!—peonies... They're very pretty flowers, don't you think?" His eyes were bright as he awaited her answer.

"Very beautiful, thank you. I'll go see how many vases we have..." Her voice trailed off in thought. "Enjoy your day's sleep." She stood and cracked her back, before bolting down the stairs. "Mom! Do you have any vases?"

"Why?" Dottie asked suspiciously. "Does this have anything to do with the _hundreds of flowers on your bed?!_"

Cassie laughed and tried to think of a lie. "Yeah. The guys came over last night with them, said they wanted to meet the lady of the house. Unfortunately they just met the frantic babysitter and me."

"Oh, yeah... Where _were_ you? And don't lie. They were muddy footprints in your room."

_Sat on a blimp with a vampire after nearly being ran over by a psychopath in a truck. Average weekend, really._ "Tom took me and Tony to a cafe. I figured that, because it was a Saturday evening, we'd be fine to skip out on the bed time! And I swear, I told the babysitter. She just didn't listen - she sat there eating chips and watching the TV!"

She still looked doubtful. "Cassie... Teenage boys like that... You know they're going to be hormone driven, right? Don't give them any ideas. I don't want you on your own with them, especially with Tony."

Cassie feigned a hurt expression. "Mom! They're not like that at all! They've been gentlemen to me! Besides, I'm pretty sure Tom and James are... _you know_," She wiggled her pinky finger. "**Gay**. Together. Or James wants them to be..."

This didn't seem to deter Dottie; in fact, Cassie mused, it seemed to make her more irate. "I don't trust it, Cass. They're a lot older than you, hun."

Privately, Cassie agreed – it _was_ peculiar that they'd taken her under their wing, but she wasn't going to knock it. They'd only been welcoming: however, if they got _too_ touchy or mean, she'd clear her hands of them. "Whatever, mom. What are you doing today?"

"I was going to make you a dress." Cassie blinked owlishly. _A dress?_ "Well, you need a dress!" Dottie flushed at Cassie's perturbed expression. "And I thought… Maybe we could make it together…"

Cassie beamed. "I'd love to! Is that what you bought yesterday?"

Dottie nodded. "It's all blue fabric. There's also a white, shimmery mesh, but I'm not sure if that's going to work with the rest of the material."

**oOo**

With her dress designs in arm, Cassie bounded up the stairs and into her new bedroom. She threw the folder to the floor and dropped down to her knees, a smile beginning to grow on her mouth. She frowned when Rudolph was nowhere to be seen.

"Rudolph?" she whispered, looking around. There was no reply. There was another flower placed by her window: a white rose. She swallowed tightly and nodded her head, acknowledging the flower for what it meant. She had to maintain her silence of Rudolph's existence – and possibly lie to Tony about the flowers. That wouldn't be too hard to do.

* * *

Days passed without Rudolph, and she almost managed to convince herself that he was a dream. A strange, slightly confusing dream, but a dream nonetheless. The flowers and bruises took some explaining away – "I nearly fell off a cliff and Donald saved me!" but the bruises faded and the flowers died. Slowly, she tried to forget.

What else could she do? He was… lovely. He held her hand when she panicked on the blimp, saved Tony's life (although the feeling of his cold hand in hers blew the whole "Tony nearly died" thing out of the water) and _covered her bed in flowers._ He was lovely!

"Cassie?" Donald waved a hand in front of her face. Tom and James watched them with amused, fond looks. "Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Cassie recoiled and ducked her head with a blush, surreptitiously checking to see if she had been drooling. "What's up?"

Donald smiled shyly. "I was wondering if you'd accompany me to the Upper Sixth Yuletide ball."

Cassie blinked. _Oh. _"But I'm fourteen," she blurted out. "And you've known me for, like, two weeks. I'm underdeveloped and shorter than you."

Donald's smile became wider. "That's okay. I'm seventeen and you've only known me for two weeks. You're not that underdeveloped and that's nothing a set of sensible heels won't fix. It's either that or I go with Tom and James, and James will be boring while Tom finds an Upper Sixth girl to fuck. Or our English teacher. He's got her eating out of the palm of his hand." Donald hastened to add, "Not that you're a second choice or anything – you're a cool girl. I'd love to show up with you on my arm."

"Um…" She weighed up the pros and the cons. By the time the 'Yuletide' ball came along, she would be fifteen; plus, she would know the trio better then, too. "Okay. When is it?"

"The fourteenth of December. If you go, you don't have to go to school the day after." Donald threw a heavy arm over her shoulder, pulsating with warmth. It was unusual how warm Don was, especially as she was always so freezing (so James told her). Tom sniggered into his palm at her disgruntled expression: James eyes narrowed in thought and he began to tap a finger against the table.

"I'm definitely in, then. What's the theme?" _Very unusual_. She eyed her mug of tea. It had gone from being lukewarm, undrinkable, to steaming hot. Don coughed pointedly.

"Yule, obviously. What would you be wearing?"

She twitched her fingers and, much to her surprise, the steam stopped rising from her mug. She moved her hands towards it and felt it radiating cold – much like ice. "Blue. Light blue. Should I go for a winter theme? Where's it being held, anyway?"

The cup heated up again as Don shifted. Her eyes narrowed and she twitched her fingers again, feeling a tingle.

The cup froze. Literally froze. Her eyes widened in shock. The liquid let out a loud cracking sound as the mug shattered around the frozen liquid. "Fucking hell!" Donald swore, pulling her back by the shoulder.

James smiled wickedly. "Blue would be lovely on you, little miss. It's being held at McAshton mansion – make sure you dress up warmly."

Cassie stared at her broken mug in shock.

Had she done that? Had she managed to freeze and break her own mug? She swallowed—well, a vampire had flown in through her little brother's bedroom window and she'd spent the night with him on a blimp. Stranger things had happened. "Excuse me," she blurted out, grabbing her bag and unwinding herself from Donald's grip. She sprinted out of the Upper Sixth common room and all but flew to the reception, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell was that?" she whispered out loud, looking around in terror.

"What's up, lass?" It was Stuart Rookery. He gave her a malicious grin and pushed himself off the wall, invading her personal space. "Those little witches messing with ya'? Tell ya' what, I'll sort out ya' witchy problem if you sort out my Pa's vamp problem, yeah?"

"Excuse me?" she hissed, drawing herself up to her formidable 5'8 height. "Who are you calling witches?" Her heart was in her throat. Vampires? Witches?

"Well, I thought ya' knew!" Stuart gave her another dirty grin. "Your little friends? Witches. All three of 'em. We got Parker," he spat the name like a curse. "The Windy one! Cooper, the Hot one and Barnett, the leader of 'em all. Good with the Earth, him. And now… Now they got you." He looked her up and down. "The Ice bitch."

_Ice?_ Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a smirk. _I have to keep him talking._ "Ice bitch, aye? I thought it was water, funnily enough…"

"Nah," Rookery shook his head. "You ain't too good with the water, yet. Seen it in your eyes: you're too cold."

_Interesting._ "Your Pa?" she probed, stepping closer to him. She could feel his wretched breath on her face, see the flecks of gold in his muddy brown eyes.

"Aye, my Pa. You've already met one of the filthy bloodsuckers though, ain't ya? Spent the night with him. Holdin' hands, weren't ya'?"

She smirked again. "Thanks, Rookery. Now get the fuck out of my way, you filthy bastard." She pushed his shoulder with all of her might and began to run again, hearing the receptionist shout after her.

_Witches!_ She thought, wondering if it was a dream. _How strange!_ Witchcraft. Everyone at Scotland was crazy! Vampires were one thing, yes, but witchcraft? And she was a witch? _But Rudolph could fly_, she argued, _and that cow hasn't been the same since._

She continued to run, catching her breath wherever possible. Unfortunately, she was very lost, and in the end she stumbled upon a cemetery. There was a bright red truck sat outside the gates, seemingly empty. She peered at it, recognising it but at the same time not, and carried on.

The cemetery was scary. Dusk was beginning to set, making her begrudge the longer hours of her high school, and the shadows of the gravestones were cast eerily. It didn't seem new, and she wondered for a moment if anyone was recently buried there. "I hope not," she muttered, kneeling down at one headstone and wiping away the grime that had accumulated there. _Rosemary McAshton_, it read. _1239-1248_. "Nine years old…"

She carried on reading the gravestones when the night finally fell, leaving her in the dark. "Well, it's perfectly normal for a teenage girl to be at a cemetery in the dark, right?" She rolled her eyes. She opened her school bag and removed a juice box, settling between a moss-covered stone and a headstone. It protected her from the cold.

Only she couldn't feel the cold. "Witchcraft…" She investigated her hands: thin, pale and long. There were no symbols that screamed 'witch' or even an 'ice witch' – there was only her cold, pale skin. Sure, her fingers were incredibly long, but that was only because she had pianist's hands. She bit her thumb nail.

_Nobody knows I'm here_.

"I wonder how far my home is from here?" she wondered out loud, peering out. There was only silence. "I mean, it shan't be too far, surely?"

_But_, she thought, _who's to say there won't be lurkers at night?_

An hour passed and she was contemplating just running again. If she found her way to the cemetery from school, maybe she could do it in reverse? It wouldn't be that hard, right?

"Cassie?"

Cassie jumped, looking up in terror. Rudolph waved back at her. He was sitting in the bushes – or was he hovering? – He smiled cheekily when she tentatively waved at him. "How long have you been sat here for?" His voice oozed concern.

"Erm… I'm not really… Sure." She hesitated. "Rudolph?" He stood and floated down until he was resting on the moss covered rock. "Do witches exist?"

His eyes darkened. "Why, Cassie?" Something in his tone terrified her. His previously kind eyes were shadowed, the crimson gleaming in the moonlight.

She told him everything. Her mug freezing, Don's unusually hot body, Tom's boiling temperature, James' frightfully cold one – "Does it mean anything? I mean, Stuart Rookery thought so – he called me an ice witch! I asked if he meant water, and he said no because I'm too cold, and then he mentioned that his father was a vampire hunter and he said that we held hands, which we did, but it's super creepy that he knows that and I'm just so confused! I mean, it just doesn't make sense! I've been here for two weeks or whatever and already there's a vampire boy and I'm being accused of witchcraft!" Her chest heaved as her voice escalated into shouts.

He leant down and pressed a finger to her mouth. "Sh, Cassie. Calm down. Show me what you did with the mug."

She nodded and breathed as he moved his hand away. Rudolph smiled encouragingly and she focussed on her juice box, twitching her fingers. There was an audible crack as the fluid froze inside of the box.

Rudolph began to laugh, a sharp, harsh sound, "Brilliant! Oh, brilliant. A little witch in McAshton land!" He laughed for a minute and slowed into chuckles, before stopping entirely. "Has the cold ever bothered you, Cassie?" She began to nod – she certainly felt the cold when they arrived in Scotland! "_Ever_? Properly? You began to shiver, or your nose ran, or your eyes streamed?"

_Well, no, _she admitted to herself. _Never_.

Rudolph took her silence as a disagreement. His tone became softer, as if he were addressing a wild animal trapped in a cage. "You're different, Cassie. And that's okay. It's better than okay," His frown turned into a smirk. "Have you missed me? Tony said you'd been moping."

She scowled. "Excuse me?"

Rudolph blinked. "Tony said you'd missed me… Is that not the case?"

"You were visiting _Tony?!_" Her voice became a shriek. She leapt onto her feet and slammed her hands on his thighs so that he couldn't move. "I thought you were a god-damned _dream_! You gave me bruises!"

A complacent smirk came onto his face. "You definitely missed me, didn't you?" Her eyes flashed. He shivered as the water in the air cooled and became dense, engulfing his body. One moment he was normal and the next he was frozen solid, littered with glinting glitter. A muffled snort escaped his lips.

"I don't find this funny, Rudolph. You bruised me, threatened my life, broke my good bat and spent your time hanging out with an eight year old!" She trailed a finger over his mouth, eyes softening. His lips unfrosted. "To apologise to me you're taking me home."

"Your wish is my command, little witch. You're going to have to unfreeze me first. Also, does it bother you that he's met my family already? Would you like to meet them too?" Rudolph smiled charmingly.

* * *

Rudolph scowled. "What? You're telling me that Tony's sister has been up there for hours and you're telling me now?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the crypt.

Gregory sneered in reply, "Go get your fucking pet, Rudolph. I don't know what you see in her anyway!"

Anna looked between the two boys, trying to placate them both. "Well, we didn't really know that she was Tony's sister, they don't really look similar. Tony's very cute and she's… Well, they don't look that similar! She's very... sharp-looking."

"She's pretty!" Rudolph hissed. "Mother, tell them she's pretty!"

Freda Sackville-Bagg smiled and waved her hand. "She's very pretty, children. But it must be freezing outside and you're in here squabbling."

Rudolph took the hint and shot out of the crypt, hovering above the cemetery to find her platinum hair. She was nestled neatly in the plot reserved for McAshton's, sipping from a brightly coloured juice box. He, as silently as possible, crept behind her.

"Cassie?" He put on his best nonchalant smile and took pride in her frightful jump. He still had it!

**oOo**

Witchcraft. Cassie was a witch. He smirked in amusement; Rookery wouldn't know what hit him! He had found the Water Witch. And she'd already found the other three! Fantastic.

He could practically taste their mortality.

* * *

"No thank you," Cassie cringed. "I just want to sleep. And cry. You're a douchebag."

"Cry?" He looked alarmed suddenly, the expression so out of place on his face that she couldn't help but smirk.

"Take me home."


End file.
